


Kitty

by AurumCelest



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: CYOA, Choose Your Own Adventure, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, PWP without Porn, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 01:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AurumCelest/pseuds/AurumCelest
Summary: You knew you shouldn't have put on that cat headband.*A small CYOA*Tags in note, please read for possible chapter triggers





	Kitty

**Author's Note:**

> No smut yet. Please read notes for possible chapter warning, particularly in chapter 3.

This really was a thrift shop you think to yourself as you browse through the shelves of miscellaneous knick knacks.  There was everything you could think of in the store. You’ve already poked through shards of a broken angel figurine, a guitar that said Pussy Power in hot pink glitter across it, an artwork of Jesus playing soccer against Buddha, and a fake plastic goblet in the shape of a snake jaw open wide.  

Unfortunately, none of it was useful, although if Hurk was here you and him would have such an argument about that statement which would probably end in the two of you hauling half the store to the pizza parlor which had somehow became HQ.  He wasn’t here, however. As a matter of fact you were here alone, everyone else having something else to do from taking care of their families to fighting peggies elsewhere.

It was obvious that the owners left the place due to a fire fight, as your eyes roam over the bullet holes in the wall.  There was also blood spotting here and there from behind the counter and out the door. Not any big puddle, thank goodness.  Hopefully that meant that they got away, you think as you pick up a statue of a frog on a unicycle. Hopefully they didn’t get taken by Jacob.

You do one last sweep of the small place, seeing if you missed something and then you see something that makes you do a double take on the countertop in the front.  Probably a leftover from Halloween, but still in very good shape considering what happened here. A headband. A kitty ear headband to be exact. 

Well, shit.

You walk towards it and pick it up gingerly.  It was really cute with soft furry ears. The whole thing was covered in fur, from the ears to the headband.  The outer ear was delightfully soft with longer fur as you ran your hand over it. The fur of the inner ear shorter than the outer and a slightly lighter color than the outside, but it was still soft to the touch.  The material of the headband itself was still in good shape too since it didn’t look bent or dirty or anything.

And, hey what do you know, there was also a mirror in front of you too.

You take a look around the store, and a quick glance outside through the window.  No one was here. No one would see or know. You quickly slip on the headband, and after adjusting it real quick and fixing your hair, you check yourself out in the mirror.

Damn cute.

A goofy grin spreads across your face.  You turn your head this way and that to see all the angles, and the headband must be made of good material because it doesn’t slip at all.  Finally when you’re about done with your own silliness, you move to take off the headband when you see, through the glass countertop that the headband was laying on, a black choker with a small silver bell on it.

Honestly, at this point you may as well.

You reach over, balancing your weight on the top and bending at the waist so you can reach around and pull open the sliding door on the other side.  You pull out the choker and quickly attach it around your neck with a click. It was made of velvet on the outer layer and silk on the inner. A few adjustments and you let it sit snugly around your neck.  Tight enough that it doesn’t slip, but not so tight that you can’t breathe. A slight flick at the bell and it tingles lightly in responds.

Your cheeks are rosy, partly from  the silly happiness you feel and partly from embarrassment at your next thought.  Facing the mirror, you slowly you bring one of your hand next to your cheek and curl your finger in towards your palm slightly.  Bending slightly at the waist you let out a small “Meow”, throwing in a wink for good measures.

“Looks like I found a lost kitten.”

Your radio blares to life, and you immediately dive towards the closest shelf to use as shelter, shattering a few knick knacks in the process.  You scoot your back towards the shelf, leaning against it as you grab your gun, checking that the safety was off and that it was lock and loaded.  Your whole body is tense and ready to fight, after all that baritone voice and low chuckle could only be one person.

Jacob Seed.

Great.  Fan-fucking-tastic.  The one day you decide to go off on your own is the same day that Jacob decides to go out.  Most of the time you run into his Chosen, but you’ve never actually seen him outside of the Veteran Center after your first encounter with the Seed family at the church.

You shuffle your way down the aisle, your bell chiming in rhythm to your steps.  Picking up a round bouncy ball on the way, you stop for a moment, and give it a light toss over another shelf towards the entrance.  It bounces out into the open once and then you hear a shot popping it before it can bounce a second time. He must be close, probably at the edge of the trees in the surrounding if you had to guess.  Far enough that if you make a break for it you could probably get away, but you’re gonna have to haul ass.

“You know,” Jacob drawls on the radio, “I always thought you were a pup, but you make a far better kitten.”

You narrow your eyes in irritation.  Fucker. You reach up to touch the kitten ears, about to take it off before you hesitate.  You look cute as shit, and taking it off...well...it kind of feels like he’s winning if you do.  Not like he already has you stuck here or anything, but it’s all about those small victories. Speaking of which, if you wanna survive this you need to get moving now before he gets any closer.

The store is small, so there won’t be a lot of maneuvering room.  There’s only one exit There was a truck parked out in the back that you might be able to hotwire to get away if you work fast.

Taking a few deep breaths, you start to make a break for the back door when you hear glass shattering and something rolling on the ground.  Putting all your strength into it you push yourself to go faster. You were close to the front counter before a bang, then smoke fills your vision. 

You cover your mouth and nose with the crook of your elbow.  Eyes watering, you go from a run to a slow walk, disoriented and scared that moving might give away your position.  You do your best to make your way to the exit based on instinct and then something is slamming into you from behind making  you land on your stomach. You kick out towards him, and scramble to crawl away. 

Hands around your ankle pull you back down towards him.  You flip on your back, aiming your gun to fire, but then there’s a hand on your wrist, gripping so hard you can feel bruises forming, and another pulling your gun away.  You hear metal clanking far away, meaning that he threw your gun somewhere out of your reach. You ball your other hand in anger and swing to where you think his face is, feeling it hit something solid and hearing a grunt.

Your small victory is short lived when the back of your head is slammed onto the floor.  Dazed, you try your best to punch him again or kick him or anything to get out of this situation, but his solid weight keeps you pinned down.

Hands grip both of your wrist, pinning them to the floor, and you feel him straddle your waist holding you in place. 

“Got you,”  a rough voice mutters as the smoke starts to dissipate, “I told you I could have you back whenever I want.”

You narrow your eyes at Jacob in irritation, although you feel a small satisfaction at seeing the bruise forming on his cheek.

“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?”  He chuckles at his own joke.

For your part, you refuse to say anything to him.  You try lift your arms, but he presses down harder when he feels you moving them.  A wiggle of your hips has him raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“You’re not getting away, so you may as well stop trying kitten.”

He moves your hands so they are above your head and grips both with his one hand, now applying enough pressure that you can feel your bones grinding against each other.  With his now free hand he flicks the bell hanging from your neck. The small tinkle brings a smile to his lips as his eyes crinkle.

“I was thinking of putting a collar around your neck, but this suits you much better,”  he flicks it again. 

“And this,” he rubs at the ears on your head, “real cute.”

 

>Show him you’re a sexy kitty

>Show him this cat has claws

**Author's Note:**

> http://jawnseed.tumblr.com


End file.
